


call it lateralus (and maybe we'll go medial)

by quellfrost (tascioni)



Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: Education, M/M, Plot What Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-21
Updated: 2012-01-21
Packaged: 2017-10-29 21:21:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/324293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tascioni/pseuds/quellfrost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mike shudders as Harvey’s fingers presses against the nape of his neck, his eyes falling shut as his hands fist the sheets reflexively. “Trapezius,” he says quietly, swallowing a low groan as he’s rewarded with a gentle bite.</p>
            </blockquote>





	call it lateralus (and maybe we'll go medial)

**Author's Note:**

> This is my "Harvey makes Mike learn the muscular system. And then tests him on it." story. (OR: I would’ve learned the muscular system so much more effectively if my anatomy & physiology textbooks had presented it like this. OR! now you can't say I never taught you anything.)

Mike shudders as Harvey’s fingers presses against the nape of his neck, his eyes falling shut as his hands fist the sheets reflexively. “Trapezius,” he says quietly, swallowing a low groan as he’s rewarded with a gentle bite.

Harvey’s hands move upward, tangling themselves at the base of Mike’s scalp, scratching gently, and Mike very nearly purrs. “Occipitalis,” he says. “Also the occipital belly of the epicranius.”

Harvey eases him onto his back, and Mike blinks up at him through the darkness, mouth moving wordlessly as Harvey traces the line of his neck. “Platysma,” Mike murmurs, only a little breathless. He lets his legs fall open, and Harvey situates himself between them, hands moving away to stroke his thighs.

“Biceps femoris,” Mike recites obediently, lifting his hips as Harvey strips him of his jeans. “Semitendinosus. Semimembranosus.”

He hears Harvey chuckle above him and groans unabashed when Harvey brushes against his half-hard cock. “I hate you,” he says, without any anger. “Why are we even doing this, you know I know it. Why can’t you ever just fuck me like a normal person, you kinky fuck?”

He gets a slap to the side of his ass, and it startles him enough that he laughs. “Gluteus medius,” he says, before Harvey can ask, and he moans appreciatively when Harvey digs his nails into his hip. “Come on,” he says. “I can recite these alphabetically, in spatial order, or order of favorites.” Mike props himself up on his elbows, hissing when Harvey scratches a thin line down to his knee. “Do you want me to guess your favorites, old man?”

“You talk too fucking much,” Harvey growls, and Mike grins when Harvey shoves him up roughly, hands pushing at his thin cotton shirt. He tosses it somewhere near the bottom of the bed, possibly even out of the room, not that he cares, not when Harvey is kissing him hard, nipping and biting at his lower lip until Mike opens up for him, and it devolves into nothing but tongue and teeth.

When they break apart, they’re both panting hard, and Mike licks his lips, reaching out to get Harvey out of his own shirt. He runs his hands down the side Harvey’s waist, the hard cords of muscle never failing to do wonderful things for his imagination. “External obliques,” he says, slowly bring his hands to the center. “Rectus abdominis.” He raises his head, pressing a kiss to the other’s chest, fingers brushing teasingly against a nipple.

“Pectoralis major,” he grins, when he feels Harvey shiver minutely above him. He bites at the base of Harvey’s neck, sucking lightly. “Sternocleidomastoid.”

He turns his head to nuzzle the side of Harvey’s jaw, purring in the low voice that he knows Harvey loves. He uses one hand to stroke down Harvey’s arm, pressing down every now and then just to feel the muscle flex beneath his fingers. “Biceps brachii, brachialis, brachioradialis, flexor carpi radialis.”

He brushes a thumb across Harvey’s forearm and suddenly finds himself being rolled over, straddling the other’s lap instead of pushing up to meet it. “Uh,” he says, somewhat disoriented. “Wow, blood rushing to head, thanks, man.”

“Shut up,” Harvey says, taking Mike cock’s into his hand and giving it a few quick strokes that earn him a broken moan. “You want to fuck?” he says, adding a twist that has Mike shaking apart. “I’ll fuck you when you can prove that you know your shit.” He presses his thumb against the slit of Mike’s cock, and Mike nearly chokes. “Can you do that, or are you going to tap out?”

“Fuck you,” Mike bites out, hips stuttering, desperate for more than Harvey will give. He sits back as Harvey reaches into the nightstand, fumbling for lube. “Oh, fuck,” he groans when Harvey presses a finger against his hole, nearly snarling in frustration when Harvey pulls back, smirking.

“Keep going,” Harvey tells him, hand tightening around Mike’s knee.

“Are you fucking serious?” Mike grits out, as Harvey finally, _finally_ slips a finger inside. “Jesus, you are such an asshole.”

Harvey moves slowly, deliberately, every press of his finger serving only to show Mike what he could have, what almost is, and Mike pushes back onto it, swallowing down whimpers as Harvey cruelly just skirts around the edge. “Fuck,” Mike groans, leaning back as Harvey bends forward to lick at a line of sweat across his collarbone. “Gast-Gastrocnemius,” he pants, and moans greedily when Harvey crooks his finger. “Sartorius,” he continues, giving Harvey’s leg the slightest squeeze. “Tibialis anterior, extensor digitorum longus.”

He’s rewarded with a second finger, and Harvey’s arm comes to wrap around his waist, holding him up as he melts into it, his mind going momentarily blank and his voice reduced to incomprehensible syllables.

Harvey kisses him then, hard and demanding, and Mike can’t do more than pant into it, letting Harvey take all that he wants and then some, leaving Mike breathless and kiss-swollen.

“Harvey,” he says, head dropping into Harvey’s shoulders, moaning when Harvey’s fingers skim over his prostate, relentless and unforgiving. “I can’t—I’m going to come, please, I need to—” He gasps sharply, and he can practically feel Harvey smirking against his temple.

“No,” Harvey says. “Come on, you’re almost done.” Harvey removes his fingers, and Mike groans reflexively at the loss, but almost immediately, Harvey is guiding him onto his cock, and Mike nearly keens for it.

“Oh, fuck,” Mike moans, fisting a hand into Harvey’s hair as Harvey pushes into him. “Fuck, fuck, Jesus Christ, fuck you, I can’t—”

“You can,” Harvey growls. “You can and you will. For fuck’s sake, it’s not that hard.”

Mike shakes his head and bites down on his lip, his hips rocking almost instinctively to match Harvey’s thrusts. He turns slightly, his nose brushing against the side of Harvey’s cheek, and he manages to breathe out shakily, “Masseter, bu-buccinator, zygomaticus major—ah, _fuck_ —depressor anguli oris, and Jesus Christ, Harvey I’m seriously going to—”

“Oribcularis oris,” Harvey finishes for him before kissing him roughly, and Mike moans into it, reaching down and pumping his cock once, twice, three times before he comes, strings of sticky white coating Harvey’s stomach as well as his own. Harvey doesn’t last much longer himself, and Mike sighs into it, rocking his hips as Harvey fills him up.

“No,” Mike says, when Harvey moves to pull out. “Jesus, just hold on a second, will you? God, I can’t believe you made me think during sex, why are you such a sadist? You can kill a person like that, you know? I can’t believe you—I saw that, you obnoxious tool, why can’t you just—”

“Oh my God,” says Harvey, exasperated. “Shut the fuck up,” and kisses him until Mike gives up and kisses back.


End file.
